Drabbles of Doom
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: A set of random, far-spaced, out of this world drabbles for the Courier and a few unnamed and named characters throughout the Mojave Wasteland. Some may be romantic, most are jut from things I observe and most are funny.
1. Mobius

**Sooo I was playing Old World Blues and I developed a weird soft spot for Mobius. I was going to write a few one shots with him and the Courier, not romantic of course, just her visiting him when he was so lonely in the Big Empty. Then, I thought of what a few other people (meaning companions, random canon characters and even occasional random, unnamed wastelanders) feel when the Courier comes around for a spell.**

**Some of them may be romantic, but the Courier isn't promiscuous or anything like that. Not all of them will be related, and if they are I will tell but I highly doubt any of these will be. The ones that deal with the add-ons will be related to the respective add-on, meaning if I do one or two with Honest Hearts or Old World Blues they will be connected. I'll say so at the top so no one gets confused. Ok, that was pretty confusing, sorry about that I tend to get way too detailed with this stuff. ANYWAY! Long authors note, don't expect any more of these. I will say that the most frequented characters will be maybe ghouls and the good (and bad) folks from the add-ons. They will all feature the Courier in one way or another, through thoughts or her actually being there. I doubt any of them will have her thought process in there, just the character she is visiting. Sorry for all of the Author Note.**

**Last thing: Updates will be random, but not erratic. I won't go probably more than two or three days without updating and most of these will be really short. Hence a one shot/drabble title. And I do insist you go to my profile and check over the Couriers stats and everything, to get better acquainted. I do requests if you want your own one shot or your own Courier to have a story. I do Male or Female, no real preference, but I do say I favor female a little more. I can add it in here or I can do it separately, just review if you're a guest or PM me if you have an account. Details on profile page.**

**Now on to the show…**

* * *

His biomed gel was filled with sparks as he flitted around the echoed dome. The machines buzzed around him, lights flashing across dials that have went unused for over a hundred years, some monitors covered in an aged green film, rusted around the edges because of misuse. Tables were heaped with scrap metal and spare components to machines he had already lost before he had even picked them up. The lights overhead, once a brilliant cerulean color, were now covered in the same green film as the terminal monitors, the floor still scuffed and scratched from two centuries of wear-and-tear.

All the while he hummed and muttered to himself, checking monitors and rechecking them, going for a healthy dose of Mentats and the occasional sting of Psycho whenever he felt like it. Of course, whenever he got the wrong dose of either, he could feel the emptiness in his domicile and occasionally wandered what it would be like to have a companion or even a visitor ever once in a while, to shake things up a bit and entertain him, help him even, with whatever scientific pursuit he was going for. Though, the more he thought about that, the more he thought about how there wasn't a wide array of companions in the Big Empty. The robo-scorpions were not friendly conversations, the cyber-dogs were fun and loyal, but Mobius needed a conversational piece, something , or someone, that could help him solve equations or simply converse with. But there were no humans living in the Big Empty, and that was what he needed. A coherent, intelligent, human.

And one day, he found one. One that visited regularly, and never whined or complained or under minded his theories and ideas.

"Mobius! We're here!"

Atilla, the Courier who ended up in the Big Empty and enjoyed every minute of it.

Mobius spun around in his place beside his monitors, and he wanted to give her a more warming smile than the one that was programmed into his monitor. "O-Oh, Atilla. Is it that time already?"

She smiled and grunted her way up the platform, approaching him. "Yep, been a week. I got you some stuff too," she grinned, pulling her pack from her shoulders. "You wouldn't believe the hard time I had in the Mojave finding all of these."

She turned her pack over and out poured a massive amount of Mentats. A few packs spilled over the edge of his research table and bounced against the worn floor, skidding this way and that but not out of reach. Atilla smiled proudly at Mobius, and if he could he would have cried. Oh how he did love Mentats! And she had listened when he was muttering about running low on a supply. He had mentioned how he would have to go out into the Big Empty to look for more, but she had told him no. To wait for her, and she had pulled through.

"Oh my Mentats!" was all he could say.

She chuckled and dropped her now empty pack onto the floor. "Well, you better be thanking me soon because I had to go to a few far out places to get these bad boys."

Mobius looked over at her. "Oh yes, thank you ever so much! I shall enjoy some now."

Atilla nodded. "Alrighty, you do that and I'm gonna go get a friend of mine."

Mobius paid no mind to her words for the moment, more focused in his task to get some of those lovely Mentats into his artificial circulatory system. Atilla ended up in Big Mountain every Tuesday of every other week. Came to explore, to play, find new gadgets and of course, visit the lonely Dr. Mobius in his Research facility. She was the heir to Big Mountain, but she never staid too long in the Think Tank. She preferred moving company to the stationary ones in The Sink. And there was only so much her little Muggy could do with his entertaining obsession of mugs and dishes.

Mobius jumped when he heard the chipper bark that echoed through the dome, and looked down at the entryway, seeing a bright furred cyber dog standing in the doorway. It looked around and panted, its tail wagging as Atilla passed and pat its brain casing.

"Come on girl, Mobius doesn't bite."

Mobius hovered in place while Atilla led the dog towards him, a small smile on her face. She stopped in front of him, watching as Mobius and the hound examined each other like beasts of the same breed. He had never seen this dog through the terminals and the computers. True, all cyber dogs looked alike, but there was always something that set them apart from the others. Always some detail the creators through in to tell them apart from all of the others. And Mobius had found this dogs difference. Her bio med gel had a healthy, pink glow instead of congealed and red. He moved around to see Atilla, and she was smiling at them.

"She is new!"

She nodded. "Her name is Roxie, I found her holotapes in the X-8 and…well it gets so lonely when I'm out in the crate so I figured some companionship would be nice. I can't take you or Muggy with me."

"Why can't you take me?"

She chuckled and reached out, poking at the monitor he could no longer see out of. "Because we don't have that fixed yet. You wouldn't be able to fully see what you were attacking if anything happened and I wouldn't live with myself if something happened to you Mobius."

Mobius wanted to smile. She cared for him, like no one else had in two centuries.

Atilla, the Courier that ended up in the Big Empty and enjoyed every minute of it.

She visited every Tuesday of every other week.

Just to run around with Dr. Mobius.


	2. Boone

**So I decided on a angst song-fic this time. It sucks and was just me being an angsty 17 year old girl and I think Boone is too stuck on his wife. I didn't have the time to revise it so excuse any spelling mistakes or punctuation errors. Lyrics belong to Nine Inch Nails, but I prefer the version by Johnny Cash.**

* * *

_**I hurt myself today…**_

_**To see if I still feel…**_

_**I focus on the pain…**_

_**The only thing that's real…**_

_**The needle tears a hole…**_

_**The old familiar sting…**_

_**Try to kill it all away…**_

_**But I remember everything…**_

* * *

She stared out over the open expanse of desert below her, cigarette balanced between her middle and index finger. She grit her teeth in aggravation, dropping the cigarette over the edge of the cliff. It was lifted and carried off by the wind, towards Quarry Junction, and she let her head drop back, a groan slipping from between her chapped lips. She felt like she was an inmate under the eyes of a guard. That was what he was to her, that was why she asked him to tag along, but now she was regretting that decision. They had been sitting on top of Quarry Junction for three hours, his eyes on her back as she sat on the edge of a cliff. If she tried to fall she knew he would catch her. If she asked for a lighter he wouldn't allow it to her.

But she tried anyway.

"Just let me go…"

"No, Atilla."

She groaned and pushed herself to her feet, stumbling back slightly before she went to jump. His arms darted out and caught her, wrapped her and held her against a hard chest. She kicked and screamed, catching the unwanted attention of the Deathclaws at their feet. Whipped her head around for a minute before she clamped her teeth into the tough skin of his arm. He cursed and let her go, catching her wrist just before she tumbled down the slope backwards.

* * *

_**What have I become…**_

_**My sweetest friend…**_

_**Everyone I know…**_

_**Goes away…**_

_**In the end…**_

_**And you could have it all…**_

_**My empire of dirt…**_

_**I will let you down…**_

_**I will make you hurt…**_

* * *

Just let me go Boone…please just let me go….

She peered over her right shoulder, fear set in her bright eyes as she saw the Deathclaw alpha male snapping his jaws at her ankles, the mother watching from a distance like the leader she was. Atilla looked back to Boone, saw his teeth gritted beneath his dark sunglasses. He tried to jerk her towards him but she shook her head and tugged on his hold again. He didn't let her go, he wouldn't let her go. He would never let her go, no matter how many times she begged for him to.

It wasn't like he loved her or even liked her, he was a hired hand, doing his job. She didn't want him to keep her alive anymore. She had done so much good, but she had also done so many bad things. Leaving those people to die in Vault 34 when they begged for help, putting down Rex when he got shot at Hoover Dam, putting Raul down like a Gecko or a Mole Rat when he crossed her. She had no friends anymore, she was out of companions. All she had left was Boone, and he didn't want her around him anymore. He never wanted her, no matter how many times she wished he did, he would never want her.

He wanted his wife.

And Atilla was just the Courier.

_**I wear this crown of thorns…**_

_**Upon my liar's chair…**_

_**Full of broken thoughts…**_

_**I cannot repair…**_

_**Beneath the stains of time…**_

_**The feelings disappear…**_

_**You are someone else…**_

_**I am still right here…**_

She cried out and slumped forward onto her knees, his hand still holding onto her tightly. Her shoulders shook with tears, her chest hurting, her head hurting. She didn't understand what she wanted anymore. Him, her sanity, to feel, her friends, home. She didn't know, and there was no one left to help her figure it out.

They all claimed her a hero, saying she was everything to everyone else. Atilla thought it was a lie. If she was everything, how come she didn't have anything? True, she had a million things. She had a glowing city waiting for her north, she had Goodsprings welcoming her back with open arms, she had the Big Empty. She had plenty of things but she was missing two things she needed, craved.

Her friends.

Herself.

Her friends were gone and so was her memory. She didn't know who she was still. After five years, she was still in the dark over who Atilla really was. She didn't even know if that was her real name, it was just the first thing that had come to her when Doc Mitchell had woke her up. Atilla just wanted to know who she was, maybe. She was missing something to fill that hole in her life, and she hadn't found it yet. It seemed like she was never going to find it. So she just wanted to let go. She just wanted to erase herself from the history books, make it so no one ever remembered who she was so she could try and remember.

But Boone wouldn't let her go.

* * *

_**What have I become…**_

_**My sweetest friend…**_

_**Everyone I know…**_

_**Goes away…**_

_**In the end…**_

_**And you could have it all…**_

_**My empire of dirt…**_

_**I will let you down…**_

_**I will make you hurt…**_

* * *

He pulled her away from the edge, crouching down and pulling her to him. He stared over the edge of the cliff, hearing the snarls and seeing the blood stained teeth snapping at them. He muttered a curse and reached into Atilla's side bag, pulling out all of the blood sausage he could. He tossed it over the edge, as far as he could, and sighed in relief when the snarls distanced themselves from the cliff side. He couldn't think straight with all of that noise.

He looked down at Atilla, seeing she was out like a light. What the hell had she been thinking, trying to kill herself like that? It wasn't the first time, over the course of his time with her she had made many attempts on her life, but not by using Quarry Junction. Atilla was unstable, just wanting her life back, the one she couldn't get back without her memory. And her memory wasn't coming back any time soon. He reached up and ran the tips of his fingers against the scar running across the side of her skull, keeping the hair from growing there. When he had met her it was still raw and stitched, painful to look at. Now it was nothing but smooth tissue and straining stubble.

She hated life. She didn't want it anymore. Everyone was always asking so much of the young woman. They needed her for too many things, they didn't realize she could only take so much. She wasn't a super hero, she was a woman in her twenties just wanting some down time. Thanks to the world outside of her lit city she had lost friends, the closest ones to her. The cyber dog was a hard hit, Raul had been in her arms when she shot him. She hadn't slept in a soldi week, hadn't ate in days.

It was just time, and Boone was there to protect her from the world.

He swallowed and reached into her back pocket, pulling out the 9mm pistol. He sighed and pressed his lips against her forehead, the barrel of the gun against her temple. "I did love you…"

* * *

_**If I could start again…**_

_**A million miles away…**_

_**I would keep myself…**_

_**I would find a way…**_


	3. Pause

_**Been a minute since I actually got around to one of these. This one is definitely humor. The concept is actually what started the drabbles besides Mobius. I hope you all enjoy. And it's all crack. I know Boone would never actually freak out like this.**_

_**Concept: What happens when you press pause?**_

* * *

"Still think this was a good idea?"

Atilla glared over at Boone, who was leaning against the same boulder as she, face as calm as ever even as the Super Mutant Master howled behind their shelter. "Oh shut up," she muttered, cradling her Anti-Material Rifle against her chest. "I just wanted to check it out."

They had been headed towards Devil's Throat when they stumbled upon a bomb and its super mutants. Her Pip-Boy had dinged up a name, 'The One', and of course she got curious and wandered too close. Her left calf was bleeding pretty badly, the 5.56mm bullets from the Chinese Assault Rifle waiting for them must have knicked an artery or something. Atilla hissed as an explosion erupted not ten feet away from them and her ears pricked at the distinctive sound of a reloading missile launcher. She grit her teeth as another explosion erupted and then swung herself around, rifle specs pressed against her right eye and she fired. The Super Mutants screamed in agony as a new explosion hit the ground at their feet. They both were on the ground now, scratching at their obviously broken legs, weapons too far away to be helpful, and Atilla smirked, lowering her weapon.

"Kiss it," she taunted, raising her bum as high as she could with an arched back, smirking widely at Boone.

He huffed and looked away from her, the corners of his mouth twitching lightly. 'Hell no."

She huffed this time, pushing herswlf to her feet. She smiled at him before walking towards the bomb. "An undetonated bomb," she mused, walking around it. "This is pretty cool."

Boone kept his distance. "You're crazy to be around it."

She atuck her tongue out at him, rifle held over her right shoulder. "Don't have to be such a party pooper."

"Well I-"

"Boone look out!"

He watched her swing her rifle down and then looked back and up, actually quivering at the size of the mutant behind him. It screamed a trademark cry and raised a super sledge over its head, pausing halfway to Boone. Boone stared at it for a moment, wondering why it had stopped and noticed its eyes darting around, an aggravated grumble coming from its massive chest.

"What the hell is going on?!"

He tried to look back at Atilla but he couldn't, he could only blink and talk. "I-I don't know."

"I'm freaking out right now!"

"And I'm just peachy," he quipped, trying to grab his rifle.

Ok, he was freaking out now too.

For a solid hour they screamed, Atilla crying and the Super Mutant still giving high pitched cries."Will you shut the fuck up," Boone yelled at the mutant.

It actually whimpered and quieted, its whole frame quivering. They would be pretty stiff after this. If it ever ended. Boone's eyes darted around, needing to see Atilla, but he coulen't. She was behind him. And far away and that.

After a good twenty minutes or so, Boone and Atilla kicked up their panicking a few notches. Screaming and crying for help. Boone had his eyes closed and was whimpering, Atilla was sobbing and the beast was trying to break free of whatever hold was on them.

"This is your fucking fault," Boone growled at Atilla, grunting as his left arm wouldn't move.

"My fault?! How is this my fucking fault?!"

"You just had to come all the way out here and look at us! We're stuck and can't move."

Atilla fell silent for a minute before she muttered. "Yeah..."

Boone huffed. "Just keep trying to get loose."

Thrashing about, they all began to think they were maybe going to be stuck in place forever, until Bokne fell. Silence fell over the three of them and Atilla looked down at her feet, lifting them at her own will and she smiled, looking up as Boone stood. They all looked at each other, the Super Mutant quiet and they all looked down, slightly embarrassed by their displays.

"So uh...how about we try this again on our way back from Devil's Throat," Atilla tried, looking up at the mutant.

It stared at her in a weird way before nodding, lumbering towards The One while Bolne and Atilla fast tracked back towards New Vegas.

* * *

_**CRACKFIC FROM HELL**_

_**So would anyone care for a backstory on Atilla? Let me know please. If not then I just won't do it but if anykne says yes then I'll get a date set and start working. **_


	4. Tin Can Phone

_**11:51 p.m. – 2/20/14**_

_Sooo this is for my reader josueb who requested an M!Courier/Cass pairing. I hope I did this justice, never written a male character before, especially paired with a woman. I did some yaoi stuff with other stories but that's for another time. I had some fun doing this and if anyone wants another request just review._

_I didn't get a description for the M!Courier before I typed and posted this, so ya know._

* * *

_**So I call you on the tin can phone.  
We rendezvous at quarter-two,  
and make sure we're alone  
I think I've found a way for you and I  
to finally fly free.**_

* * *

"Cass!"

Aforementioned woman cringed into her whiskey. She was tucked away in the dining room of the Tops casino Presidential Suite, in the dark and out of view of everyone. Boone and Lily had already came through and hadn't noticed her at all. She wasn't there to them, just another brick in the wall, or another tear in its two hundred year old wallpaper. But one person noticed her, one person could pick her out in the dark of night in the wasteland. Hell, she could be wearing a Stealth Boy and he would find her.

"Cass I know you're in the dining room!"

She groaned and let her forehead connect with the moldy table top. "What do you want?"

His laugh echoed through the suite and he came swooping in, dangling from the doorframe his fingers clenched. He had let his hair grow out the past few months and it was the color of ash, brushing against his shoulders as he abruptly stopped. His usual armor had been peeled away and he wore a simple undershirt and a pair of black pants that belonged under leather armor. He had taken off his Pip-Boy when they had got in last night and Cass could see the holes where the nerve detectors dug in. Her eyes met his, full of concern, but he didn't notice it apparently because he was still smiling at her.

Like she was the only person in the world.

She hated that shit.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy hated Nathaniel the Courier.

Of course, that's what she told herself.

"You wanna go out somewhere?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Like where?"

He shrugged and let go of the doorframe, leaning onto the table next, inching closer towards her every time she took a sip of her whiskey. "Maybe we can go to the Ultra-Luxe.'

"Stuffy."

"Tops?"

"Those bastards gross me out, they all reek of hair gel and two hundred year old cologne."

"Gomorrah."

She reared a hand back and let it smack across his stubbled jaw, cheeks burning. "No."

He chuckled. "And why not?"

She looked down the neck of her whiskey bottle, cheeks heating up further, if they could any further. "You know very well why."

"Aw, Joanna didn't mean it and you know it."

She looked up through her lashes at him, seeing that lopsided grin and then she looked away, huffing as she lifted her drink back up to her lips. "It wasn't funny."

"You gotta admit it was sort of funny."

She grumbled. "It wasn't funny, it was embarrassing. I didn't even wanna go in there anyway. You knew that."

He laughed again, earning a chuckle from Boone in the other room. "Ok, so maybe I did know, but so what," he slid closer towards her, smiling like an idiot and making her lose that train of thought again. Fucker. "You still wanna runaway with me?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment. "Wh-What?"

"Wanna run away with me, tonight," he stood and stretched. "It's been pretty boring around here since Sierra and well, Boone is a bore and Lily is…Lilly. Come on, Cass," he leaned onto the table with his arms. "Run away with me. We can get drunk, go crazy with our guns and maybe kill some stuff. The city is boring, wasteland is our playground."

He was excited, and possibly high, but Cass didn't dwell on that part. She just sighed and nodded smiling a little as he bounded off into the next room.

* * *

"One down, one to go."

Cass leaned back against the rock at Nathaniel's side, eyes staring at his hands as they cradled the silencer rifle so gently. He was lying flat on his stomach at the edge of the Cliffside Prospector Camp they had found last night. The sun was coming up through the red rocks and the morning air was littered with mist and empty gecko cries. Cass jumped back into reality as he fired, a slight pop giving way to a deadly bullet. Looking out at the land below them she watched another Fire Gecko crumple to the ground.

"Come on," she muttered in a half drunken state, nudging his elbow with the toe of her boot. "I'm tired."

He chuckled and looked over at her, his leather armor shining with aged blood as he twisted to sit up in the sunlight. "My, my, Miss Cassidy are you drunk?"

She flipped him off and he chuckled again, leaning the rifle against the rocks behind him. "Shut up you jerk, you're the one that kept me out here all night shooting geckos."

"You came voluntarily," he hummed, falling back onto an old moldy mattress.

She grimaced and pushed at him, trying to get him off of it. "That thing is filthy," she slurred.

"So what," he grunted and pushed her off of him, grabbing her right wrist. "We sleep on stuff like this all the time."

"No we don't," she murmured, raising her left hand to get his grip off of her. "Let me go."

He grabbed that one as well. "And if I don't?"

She grimaced and stuck her tongue out at him. She was beyond wasted. "Lemme go, Nathan," she whined loudly.

He smirked and tugged on her, forcing her back flat against the sand. A man like Nathaniel was never supposed to admit he found a woman beautiful , unless he was trying to get information from her or was plain lonely. But right now, in the morning light, Cass looked down right beautiful. Flushed, freckled skin, tan from years in the sun and he knew about the unnoticed curves beneath her frumpy flannel and jeans. And those eyes. Those damn eyes. When he first locked his own with them, he felt like he remembered something about them. Whether it was the color or the owner, he didn't know, but something was familiar.

But he had tried to forget about that. Tried to forget about those first few months trekking through the wasteland with her at his side, just as stumbling and incoherent as he had been. Of course she had been buzzing on whiskey, he had, had an aching hole in his head.

She reached up now, fingertips ghosting across the old scar tissue, thinking back. It had been three years and it still hadn't healed right. "I'm sorry," she whispers, not knowing what she is apologizing for exactly.

He smiles slightly, but it is really just a twitch of the lips and he sits up, watching as she sleeps. "I am too…"

* * *

_I did truly enjoy writing this little piece. Maybe we'll see more of them later on._


	5. The Fort

_**5:51 p.m. – 3/4/14**_

_This originally was going to be a one shot my co-author Vatos, but she decided against it and I gained it instead. The woman is not my Courier Atilla, she has no name, in this small piece at least. I don't know if I will do anymore with Her and Vulpes, but this is definitely a good one shot. Very short, no M rating needed, intelligent romance. If you like it, tell me please. I might start something (a story) to go to this but it all depends. No feedback, no story, just random one shots to come._

* * *

No one knew how quiet it was inside the Fort.

Though war drums beat occasionally, all in all it was peaceful. No screams of agony, no pleas or safety. Inside it was nothing like NCR spouted.

The tent was almost as high as Caesar's, more off to the left, out of hearing range of the camp but still inside its boundaries. It was the same mass as Caesars, but unlike his it opened on the side and always remained open unless it was raining or cold. Sometimes even then. Tonight it was clouded and thunder crackled around the camp, war drums beating softly along the perimeters of the slave encampment, and fires burned in large bowls upon wooden stilts, sending the glow across the camp and the embers into the sky.

She stood on the fringe of the open tent, sheets wrapped around her body as her eyes swept along the tops of crimson and brown tents. Her hair was long and fluttering, wet from a cold bath, and her eyes were bright. A non-breeding female was rare in the Fort, but she had proved herself worthy of a higher title. A demon, is what Caesar had called her. She wasn't known to the world outside of the Fort, but inside of it she was dangerous, and not to be trifled with. She was branded, not by hot metal, but by her own will, to a man _she_ deemed worthy of her time. And he had found he enjoyed it, she could cower beneath him if he wanted her to, and she did it on her own accord. It made it all the more alluring and addicting.

This man was _not_ the mighty Caesar.

But he was equally feared and respected.

He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her to his chest. "What do you think you are doing," he purred in her ear.

She didn't even flinch, he expression remained stern, almost impassive and blank. "I am concerned," she murmured, her right hand coming up to rub one of his gently.

"The Demon is concerned," he mused. "Interesting, what about?"

"About my job tomorrow…Demon or not, I had a place in the old world, I am not leaving it for Caesar."

"Hold your tongue, lest someone hears you."

She hissed and narrowed her eyes at some children doing their laps around Caesar's tent. "I am not afraid of any of them, I can strike them all down before they even touch me."

"Such boastful words will get Caesar on your back," he muttered, slightly aggravated with her disposition.

She was never usually this hard, on edge. She was truly unnerved by this task.

"I do not care about your Caesar," she turned in his arms, reaching up to place both of her hands on either side of his face. "I only care about you and my duties. And this one I am not so sure about…what if they do not listen?"

"Just quit, you can be a queen," he muttered, bending his head down and nibbling at the skin just under her earlobe.

She jumped slightly but didn't give him any other satisfaction, though the insides of her body were like live wires. "I can't sit still…you know that."

"I do, but it is aggravating."

She chuckled. "Now, would you like a stable woman?"

"Obviously not or I would have plucked up my own slave," he murmured, lips ghosting across the tender skin of her neck. Oh how he loved the way she hiked her whole body up when he did such a thing, those tiny gasps coming through her lips.

Like she wasn't a demon

Like she hadn't slaughtered her fair share of armies.

Like she was human.

"Vulpes Inculta," she breathed into his ear, fingers dancing down his torso.

He wasn't as muscled as others in the Mojave. He was in fact, quite lean; in his arms and legs he had but what muscle he needed to get basics done, his torso was clean and slender, but hints of abdominal muscles rippled beneath the surface, showing on occasion when he came back from long treks through the Mojave sand. It was something she enjoyed, a sight she longed to behold. It was, in a twisted sort of way, her idea of a softer, gentler, him. But there was nothing soft or gentle about this man, he was all beast and all hers. She relished in the fact that she drew envious and hateful glares on her walks through the camp, biding her time for a new mission or waiting for him to come home. The women hated her, pining for her life as one of the top dogs instead of the lowly chow that they were. She was proud on the arm of Vulpes, not a bad looking man, and she was strong and fierce by herself.

His fingers threaded through the hair on the back of her head and he pulled her away from him, his cold eyes running over what he could see of her. "You are mine," he stated.

She nodded. "Yes, I am yours."


	6. Scrambler

_**4:48 p.m. – 3/3/14**_

_And back to Atilla we go:) I wanted to do something after I decided to do the option of taking over Goodsprings with the Powder Gangers. I went straight to the Correctional Facility because I had never been in there and I met Scrambler. I want to remind everyone that Atilla is not promiscuous, not all of these one shots are related and this one is sort of a Scrambler/F!Courier arc. I will let you know in an author's note whenever it's something like this._

* * *

"Think she'd be willin…"

Scrambler opened his one eye and lifted his head, watching Eddie and Carter admire something out the window. He grumbled a little as he pushed himself off of the wall, swaying towards the two. He looked out the shattered window and raised a brow. The old-world basketball court had been haphazardly cleared and a few of the inmates were tossing around a basketball, howling and whistling at the thin figure chasing them across the concrete. She twisted around one of them, a man Scrambler knew by the name of Jeremaih, and snatched the ball away. A laugh echoed through the air as she was chased by the same man, him cursing at the fact that she had gotten the ball from him. She paused mid-court and poised herself to 'flick' the ball. It swished through the hoop and she tossed her hands into the air, cheering along with Meyers and Carter.

Jeremaih laughed and went to grab her, obviously having no intentions of it meaning anything but friendly (which was odd), but a scoped 44. Magnum slid effortlessly from the holster on her thigh and with a smile still on her lips and a laugh ringing through the air she held it to his forehead. She and Myers still laughed while Jeremaih scrambled back, out of the barrel, and she slid it back into her holster, eyes flying to the window and Scrambler could have sworn they locked eyes.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and turned to the window fully, propping her left leg on her tip toes and cocking her hip. "Hey Scrambler! Come on down!"

Eddie and Carter looked over at him but he was already walking out the door, the lettering on his back all they saw. He stepped out into the courtyard unseen, sticking to the side wall so no one could see him and he let out a shrill whistle. Her head darted up and she looked around, lit cigarette hanging from her sweat-wet lips and then she saw his waving hand. She smiled and reached across the chipped picnic table for her small bag and she jogged over to the shadows with him. She dropped her pack and then pulled the cigarette from her lips, opening her mouth to speak until he caught her by her right wrist and jerked her towards him.

She gave a small squeak and her eyes snapped shut as her lips molded against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to his, her toes dangling off of the ground slightly. She twisted her head slightly to the right and smirked against his lips as his hands wormed their way up her shorts, grabbing a firm hold onto his prize. Normally she hated anyone or anything but her touching her rear end. It made her unnaturally angry and most people thought she was overreacting but it was not just something you touch. But Scrambler, well, he could do whatever the hell he wanted to with it.

She pulled away from his lips, not opening her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chin, smiling. "And here I told Cass you were a gentleman."

"Why the hell would you ever think that?"

She looked up at him, face placid in thought. "Just because I see you as one. Now what the hell were Eddie and Carter looking at?"

"What do you think," he pulled her over to the pile of half burnt tires and fell back onto them, pulling her sweat drenched form onto his lap. "Your half naked ass running around here with a bunch of convicts, ass and tits bouncin' everywhere, who wouldn't look?"

She blushed at his words and then rested her head against his chest. "Can anyone see us?"

He shook his head and looked around. "Made sure we were out of sight of everyone."

"Good," she closed her eyes. "I've been waiting for this for two weeks and if anyone fucks it up I am going to shoot them."

He chuckled. "I don't think anyone will mess with us, pretty sure Jeremaih is telling everyone how you laughed while you held the gun to his face."

She let out a small sigh and snuggled in closer. "Sorry about the smell," she muttered, half asleep.

He closed his eye and laid his head back. "It's fine."

* * *

_Atilla's issue with her ass being touched is one of my own issues. I hate it for some reason, like I got furious at my mother for accidently touching it while she was throwing away a box of macaroni. This was inspired by me just wanting to cuddle with Scrambler._


	7. Blood and Golden Geckos

_**M!Courier/Cass for josueb again. I enjoyed them too much to leave it at that. The Couriers name is Nathaniel. Addition of the Animal Perk, if you got it from the beginning of the game and could take some animals as companions.**_

* * *

The day Cass met Nathaniel was an interesting one.

Ranger Jackson was hovering behind her at the end of the hallway, watching her to make sure she didn't get belligerent like she had the night before. Those eyes in her back were burning and starting to grate against her already frazzled nerves. A scowl was laced across her chapped lips while she lifted the bottle of whiskey up to her lips. All these years and the burn still made her stomach churn. Cass looked up at the still ticking clock, surprised it actually worked and then sighed.

She had been sitting here every day for the last month, not allowed to leave but not wanted. She just wanted to go back home, she didn't care about revenge, she didn't care about it anymore, he just wanted to get home. Or somewhere else. Maybe D.C., she had heard of some woman from Vault 101 running wild out there and it sounded like a good place for her. Cass was tired of rules and regulations, a booze content limit. It was driving her crazy to be watched and judged about her whiskey, bugged about being drunk, bugged about shooting off her gun in the courtyard of the Mojave Outpost.

She was sick of it all.

After a long moment of silent ranting Cass noticed how quiet it was in the sort-of bar and then lifted her eyes from the bottom of her bottle, looking around the room. Everyone's eyes were on the door, wide set and bewildered. So she followed their gaze and then she realized why everyone was silent. There was a man there, covered head-to-toe in blood and leaning onto a rather large Golden Gecko. He was leaning heavily against it, left eye swollen shut and his jaw dotted in bright purples and green. He wore a set of tattered and stained lightweight leather armor, the exposed skin beneath splotchy and almost rotten looking. He swallowed and let out a loud, shaky, breath.

"I-I need help," he muttered before collapsing onto the ground.

Cass was the first to move, the second was Lacey. Of course the women moved first. Cass caught him against her chest before he hit the ground, grunting at the dead weight and then Lacey helped her drag him into the barracks. The Gecko followed behind them, calm and bitching. Cass eyes it warily but it just let its tongue loll out of its head and then abruptly let it slap against its right eye, cleaning it. She rolled her eyes and watched the doc come in and begin to stitch the stranger up.

And the Gecko never left his side.

* * *

Cass yawned and stretched on her cot, night shirt riding up her scar riddled stomach and she pulled her legs up onto the mattress. No blankets, no sheets, just your skin fighting against the desert chill. But Cass was hardened by the cool breezes and found them rather comforting. She set her hat against the empty side of her pillow and folded her hands beneath her head, closing her eyes as the alcohol lulled her towards sleep. Of course it didn't last long, with the groaning and mumbling and all coming from the cot on the other side of her head board. Her eyes popped open from slits and she grumbled, sitting up and glaring at the occupant.

The stranger.

His eyes, or rather _eye _(meaning the right one), were open and he was rocking his head back and forth on the ragged pillow. The Gecko was chirping against his cheek, nudging his head around. He smiled and reached over with a swollen arm and pats the beast on the head, scratching the flaky skin on the underside of its jaw and then he tried to sit up. Cass jumped up and pushed him back down onto the bed, cringing when a cry of pain came from his lips.

"Shut it," she hissed, eyes hovering over the form of a sleeping Ranger on the cot next to hers. He didn't wake. She looked back down at him and noticed that eye on her, feeling something…sort of familiar. But she shook that off. It was probably the booze still flowing through her. "You're in the Mojave Outpost, just lay back and relax. Look like you've been through hell."

He smiled a small smile, obviously finding something funny in all of this, but he didn't say anything but one word. A name. "Nathaniel."

Cass's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

He chuckled. "My name, it's Nathaniel."

She stared at him for a moment before she decided on giving her own name. But not all of it, that was reserved for people she trusted, people she cared about. "Cass, my name is Cass."

He nodded a little and then his eyes went to the ceiling. "So, how did I get here?"

Cass almost growled at him. She wanted to sleep. But, she had been in the same situation more times that she cared to remember and she had always had someone looking out for her. So she perched herself on the very edge of the mattress and combed her fingers through her hair for a moment.

"Your buddy there I guess drug you here."

He looked over at the Gecko that had finally curled into a tight ball against the bunk and smiled. "He's a good friend."

"Friend," Cass snorted. "Them damn things are part of what is keeping me here in this shithole."

He frowned. "Only a part of the reason?"

Her shoulders tensed and she waved a hand at him. "Don't worry about that, what the hell did this to you?"

He sighed and reached up, eyeing his right hand intensely for a moment before he looked up at her. "Well let's see," he muttered, rolling painfully onto his side. "First I climbed out of the grave, got shot in the head a few weeks ago. And then I got attacked by some rogue Powder Gangers and then I got attacked by a group of bandits in Primm. Didn't know I had this guy following me around," he reached down and placed his hand flat against the Gecko's hide. "But I'm thankful for it."

"You talk rather fluently for being shot in the head," Cass muttered, moving to her cot.

"What brought you here?"

She stayed silent for a long time. "Go to sleep."

"Wanna leave with me tomorrow?"

Cass' head shot up and she eyed him with wide irises. "What?"

He smiled. "I'm leaving tomorrow and I don't want to put my new buddy through too much shit, having some back up with a shotgun could make it easier. And you don't like this place anyway right? Come with me to New Vegas."

"Why the hell would you want to go to New Vegas?"

"Vengeance."

_Vengeance._

The word rang with pleasure and desperation. It was like a light bulb clicking on inside of her skull and Cass grinned. Vengeance sounded like a lot of fun, and it would possibly satiate her thirst for her own vengeance.

"Hell yeah I do, when do we leave?"

"After we down the first bottle of whiskey in the morning."

* * *

_**I think I am going to keep the M!Courier/Cass arc in order. Or maybe I will make them their own story or series of separate one shots. I don't know. Any ideas?**_

_**ADVETISMENTS: **_

_**Deadman Wonderland by my partner for the Vatos account is going to be a really exciting New Vegas fic. We've already got at least fifteen chapters done but we will post two at a time.**_

_**My own story Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell is a fallout 3 – Charon/F!LoneWanderer fic, may not come with a happy ending but it's debatable.**_

_**Two to the Head: A Courier Six Novel by SuprisinglyOdd is a good story already.**_

_**The Wasteland Warrior: Genesis by Raven Darthvana is also an excellent story.**_

* * *

_**If anyone would like me to advertise for their own story on mine like I did above feel free to say something. I get a TON of views on my stories and I enjoy helping people with getting their story out there.**_


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